All For Love
by flashpenguin
Summary: Some call it the greatest emotion known to man. Some call it an illusion. Others proclaim it a fallacy. But what happens when one of the BAU ladies runs headlong into love?


_Ilovetvalot posed a challenge to me: listen to the song "All For Love" by Serena Ryder and write a Rossi/JJ or a Rossi/Emily story…and make it have a happy ending. Never having heard the song before, I listened- only to be struck that the story could go either way. As I typed, the story came out and it DID lean toward both women. I decided to leave the female character nameless even though I touch on incidents that touched both of their lives. Hope you enjoy._

_I don't own Criminal Minds_

_Song Prompt: "All For Love" by Serena Ryder_

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**All For Love**

All of her life she had waited for this moment to arrive. But no one had ever told her that the moment might take forever. Even the most love hungry advocates surely gave up after a while when they realised that sometimes you have to move on. But she was stubborn. She always got what she wanted. Why should David Rossi be any different?

Sure he was gruff, arrogant, and had an ego the size of Texas. Of course he had been known to brush off hangers on, but after Chloe's murder, he seemed to have calmed down a little. He had become a little more introspective of who and what the image of David Rossi was.

That didn't mean that he still didn't think he had all the answers, and didn't rub her the wrong way whenever they were on a case, but she did find herself looking forward to cases where they were teamed together.

And she felt herself falling hard. It started out as a little thrill when he had reached out for some papers. It was nothing special just a brush of their fingertips and she felt her breath catch. It was too unreal and too Hollywood. Lightning never struck…at least where she was concerned.

Besides, she never believed in that fairy tale of a Prince Charming riding in on a white horse and saving her. For one, David Rossi was as far from a Prince Charming as anyone could ever be. And Lord knew that she could never be a damsel in distress. It wasn't that the idea didn't appeal to her- she just didn't know how to assume the role. Besides, if she was going to get a man like David Rossi, weak was not the route to go.

Didn't mean the thought hadn't crossed her mind a hundred times. But the time never seemed right. So she put it on the shelf to gather dust along with her other hopes and dreams. Until that day on the jet when he sat down beside her. It could have been his cologne, or maybe his jovial attitude, or perhaps it was the one time her guard was down…when he turned to her asked a question, she lost herself and dropped the file in her hand.

She couldn't remember for the life of her what the question was, but she would never forget the twinkling spark in his eye as he watched her kneel down and try to gather the sheets of paper. At her age, with her experience, she was sure she had forgotten how to blush, but when it came to him, obviously embarrassment was going to be her middle name.

And in a way, she didn't mind…if it meant that he knew how she felt about him. Of course she could have that ultra brave moment and say what she felt out loud. _Yeah, right; that would go over so well. It's not as though the situation was uncomfortable enough without me throwing myself straight at his feet like a groupie._ No, she was going to have to approach it from an adult point of view….guess that would explain the low cut shirts, push-up bra, high heeled pumps, and tight skirts. Great move! Nothing like a stereo-type to catch a man's attention.

Of course, _he _didn't notice. Morgan did and had something to say about it- although his tone carried a hint of jealousy. Reid was of course Reid- clueless and dumbfounded by Morgan's remark; which earned him a slap on the back of the head. Poor Hotch…for the first time in a long time a spark of interest lit his eyes as she felt him scan her from head to toe. It broke her heart that she was turning on the wrong man.

Out of the corner of her eye she watched his reaction. Nothing. Not even a change in tone to indicate that he had even noticed the attitudes of the other men. Jerk!

So she went the next best route: hairstyle change. The bangs had been a big step. Then the high-lites. And still nothing. Well, he had said something, but it wasn't what she wanted to hear. He just had to go down the road of why did a person have to mess with a good thing and try to change things around, didn't he?

Maybe he liked being stuck in the past where the man was the victor, but that wasn't who she was; she was a person with feelings. And she liked being the victor. And now she hated him. And this time she could make it clearer than when she was in love with him.

There was nothing in the FBI regs that said she had to be nice and gracious- just not insubordinate and harassing.

So, that is exactly what she did. If he had an opinion or suggestion, she tried to have a better one. If he got on the plane last, she got off first. Always volunteering, never turning down a request- that was who she was: a hard-charger.

Until she got hurt. But that time wasn't her fault; who could have seen an UNSUB standing around the corner with a two by four? The blow itself was bad enough without having to hear David Rossi's voice coming thru her haze. He was upset at her. She was alright- she had taken worse blows in her life- until he reached down and took her hand to help her up. But she ignored it and him. She could live without him. Couldn't she?

Before he could start haunting her dreams again, before he could make her lose herself, she was going to figure out her life. But this time, she was calling reinforcements: the BAU ladies! If anyone knew how to get to the bottom of this cacophony raging inside of her, it would be the women who knew all there was about men.

As she spilled all that was in her mind and heart, she half expected them to laugh or joke about her choice of crush. Instead they listened as she rambled on about watching him walk, talk…even twiddling his thumbs when he was in deep thought. As she ran out of words- or maybe it was the beer kicking in making her slow down and be mellow- she watched her friends and their reactions and the possible fall out.

But it never came. They were almost sympathetic toward her plight- of course one of them wanted to hang David Rossi by his thumbs, while the other knew that somewhere out there was a naked baby picture of David Rossi on a bear skin rug that could circulate the internet with just the right ingenuity behind it. Within no time they had her tears turned into laughter and it felt so good.

It was all good until one of them confessed that it was possible that David Rossi wasn't as neutral as he appeared. While she sat in shock (the beer buzz wearing off), she tried to comprehend what they had seen from their point of view. They too had caught moments when David Rossi had scoped her on more than one occasion- especially that day she came in wearing the low cut blouse and tight skirt.

And when the UNSUB got the upper hand, all hell had broken loose at the BAU. He wasn't angry at her, but angry that he had dropped his guard and let her get hurt. It was all Hotch and Morgan could do to hold him back when all he wanted to do was inflict pain on a guy who was already suffering from a gunshot wound. Hotch threatened to shoot Dave if he didn't calm down. It was then the ladies knew that David Rossi's feelings for his co-worker went deeper than just the conference table.

Now it was up to her to decide which way to go: did she stay and fight, or did she throw it all away?

She never cared much for prayer. Not that she didn't believe in God…she had faith in a higher power- one could never do this job without faith- she didn't believe in the idea of a God who sat by and did nothing. But she was a good person, maybe not the best, but she didn't steal, she paid her bills, she didn't lie (unless it was to herself), so she wondered if she prayed for a sign that she could get what she so desperately wanted.

And she waited…sort of. Before when she ran from him, or glared at his presence, she now remained cool-despite the butterflies dancing in stomach. When he sat next to her, she smiled warmly. And when their hands brushed, she thanked her lucky stars.

She wasn't going to give up. It was total balls to the wall. Maybe she would lose in the end, but no one could say she didn't try. Maybe they wouldn't have to…

So tonight, as she lay in her bed, the day's events replayed like a video. It was nothing special, nothing out of the ordinary; just another day at the BAU. Slow, uneventful, no surprises. A day for the record books.

Closing down her computer, she started to put things away to end the day and go home. And then it caught her eye: a dark blue envelope with cryptic handwriting- she always thought it was ironic that a famous FBI profiler could have the handwriting of a serial killer- spelling out her name. Making sure no one was around she opened it and pulled out a card. It was simple: white with a rose. No fancy words to indicate how or why it had been sent.

Opening it slowly, it took a moment to make sense of the words written on the clear space: "Cara, your place or mine?" Fingering the card, she looked up at his office. The light was on. He was still around. Perhaps he was working on a case, or maybe…just maybe he was waiting for her reaction.

It was brief- almost non-existent- but the blinds moved. She didn't know if he caught the smile on her face or the nod of her head, but if he did, she meant it.

Now she laid in her bed, bathed in the moonlight, her arms around the sleeping man who held on tight even in his sleep. Yeah, there were ups and downs, tears and laughter, but it all worked out in the end.

When you throw your heart to the wind and decide to do it all for love, it always works out in the end.


End file.
